When Cicadas Cry
by Jeengufett
Summary: Sometimes it's not as easy to classify a person schizophrenic just because he sees things. But other times, it's better not to know about it at all. Renamed characters, but other than that it's douwata.
1. Introduction

**When Cicadas Cry**

**Author's notes page. **

Before we begin, I would like to introduce to you a couple of characters:

**[.]** Alexis Tate (Watanuki Kimihiro)

**[.] **Dr. William Gage (Doumeki Shizuka)

**[.] **Miss Rose Anna

**[.]** Aleria Trionheart (Ichihara Yuuko)

**[.]** Marjorie Denn

Other characters will be amply introduced before or after their appearance in future chapters.

Despite the changes in their names, these characters still belong to CLAMP, and I am making no profit of this. If there are coincidences that another fanfiction (or story) has been published with a similar story line as of mine, know that I have no knowledge of it, and I take no responsibility. All my stories are done underneath the pressure of boredom and malevolent plot bunnies.

Constructive, fangirl-y, squeal-y, and (diminutive) rant-y reviews are welcome, always.

Updates will be made at my own pace, for I am simply not a writer with too much time in her hands. I have responsibilities in real life, and writing- or updating- is, and cannot be, my number one priority. I still have school. And I need to work for honorable mention, thank you very much.

To start reading the story, go to **Chapter one **and begin.

Thank you.

Jeengu


	2. Chapter one

**When Cicadas Cry **

Chapter 1 : **Because Schizophrenia isn't really a case to fool around with.**

-

"…and you are saying he isn't retarded?"

It came as an insult, really, because she always was sure if her patients were retarded- and she was in the business of taking care of them, supervising them, even, for so long. Perhaps Dr. William was much of an expert himself that he proved to be tactless towards his peers, or perhaps he was right. The patient they were dealing with was as blind as he was schizophrenic, after all, but that wouldn't explain his talking with unseen guests and frequent acquisition of injury. She often studied his case, and tried to compare it with others- his level of schizophrenia was rare and within the level of extremity, and probably dangerous to herself, too. She regarded his injuries- cuts and bruises, a rare alarming case of fractures, sometimes- to be self-inflicted injuries, because the poor boy was an isolated case anyhow, and he was often without guardian when he should have.

Outside, the leaves were taking a turn to fall towards the ground in a sort of gentle, soothing manner. A boy of sixteen years stood beneath the falling leaves, unaware of their presence around him. His attention was fixated on two things: the conversation the was being held within the office of his caretaker, and the dark shapes enveloping the outer rims of the windows of the said office. There was neither fear nor alarm in his pearly white eyes.

Rose thought for a while, and replied; "No, I'm afraid he is. Although he is quite intelligent for his state, there is no other explanation as to why he could receive so many wounds just like that." And then, "Besides, even if there are a few other cases here who are known to hurt their roommates, Alexis is an isolated case, and he is blind."

Dr. William Gage, an incredibly good-looking man, adjusted the position his legs were in, and said; "So you decided it best to contact a psychologist for this one, correct, Miss Rose? I am an incredibly busy man; I have no time to fiddle with such presumptions. If there are no other reasons to it, then let it be. Schizophrenics are schizophrenics, after all."

The teenager listening in on them left for the main lobby of the asylum.

Rose allowed herself to look a bit outraged, because what kind of psychologist would say such a thing? And to actually believe that he was sympathetic and kind, the nerve of that doctor! Rose had given all her patients love and respect, even in their lack of mental stability- she didn't do it out of pity, too, because people tend to grow on you after eighteen years, after all. Psychologists weren't exactly as friendly with their patients, but a little consideration on their part (or on Dr. William's, in this case) would be much appreciated. Alexis was such a beautiful teenager, it was a shame to let him rot this way.

She was a good woman, sort of chubby and rough around the edges, around the age of forty. Although she hasn't had a love life for so long, and despite the fact that she was standing before a very handsome man (Dark gray suit, tailored to fit, crisp white shirt underneath and a crimson tie just a shade before being loud; Firm-jawed, not quite square but definitely held that angle of stubbornness, thin lips and slender nose, dark hair cropped short and molded into miniature spikes, pale hazel eyes), and that she was a romantic, she was going to blow her blood pressure here. And to think that she was usually infuriated with the other psychologists because they say that they had no idea, and that they were much frightened by Alexis…the poor dear. He has gone through so much, and not even the best of the best cannot (and will not) help him.

Rose stood, then, with her fists clenched and her breathing hard. She decided that, if she were to plead his help, she would need to have a bit of patience, and a bit of perseverance. "Dr. William, you could at least see the patient first before declaring it so."

The said doctor spared her a look, and without much of a thought, shrugged. "Bring him in, then."

She nodded curtly before heading out, without even bothering to excuse herself. She passed numerous of her patients as she went on her way, and checked briefly if they were keeping out of trouble- Jack was playing with the hammer again, it was a good thing she'd replaced that with rubber- and she finally found who she was looking for, a lone man inside the asylum's lobby.

The main lobby was a gothic, majestic kind of thing. Spirals were etched into various places on the walls intricately, molding their forms into vague swirls until shapes of angels formed, in opposite directions prior to the other. The ceiling was well-designed, painted as a mural by a man who later turned out to be a paranoid schizophrenic himself, with dark shapes and loud colors and various letterings of the words "Mummy it's dark in here" outside a somewhat monotoned web of colors. The floors were all carefully laid in with marble, sleek and strong, plainly designed in its simplicity. A front desk stood on the far end across the main door, and Marjorie- young and naïve Marjorie- took up the position of manning it. At this moment, Marjorie has busied herself in yet another teenager magazine.

A little way of, sitting upon the cushions of dark leather waiting chairs, was Alexis.

Rose knew, from experience, how to treat the highly disturbed Alexis- and so, she gently caressed his arm before pulling him to her, and without restraint the younger lad did so. The boy was truly angelic in his form- with dark hair colored gold in the sun light, long and uncut for some time, with strands standing here and there in a sort of elegant way; skin so smooth and milky white, marred by the presence of scratches and marks; his lips thin and beautifully curved, a slender, almost feminine nose, curving eye lashes and thin brows; and his lovely eyes, chiseled perhaps from the finest marble, crafted by Michelangelo himself, with orbs shining through the dark yet graceful frame of his hanging lashes, a fine color of silver and white molded together to come up with something different in hue all throughout- and she frowned, visibly, in thinking that this wonderful lad could be doomed to such a fate, a fate created by trauma and by injury, and she hated to see it so.

Nevertheless, a smile; "Alexis, there is someone who wants to see you today. We must hurry to him, else he leaves us, my dear."

"Somebody would like to see me?" Said the boy, following obediently.

"Yes. I promise you he would make you well." She spotted another thin line grazed upon his bare neck, and said; "Another one?" Quite simply.

"Ah." The boy didn't know what to say, and let his fingers run again and again over the wound; and they reached the counseling room, shortly after.

Dr. William was, fortunately, still there; he had been looking out the window where Rose had left him, watching the numerous mentally retarded people litter the front lawn, in their past time. As soon as Rose and Alexis walked in, he brought his attention towards them; first at Rose, in her contempt, and then at Alexis, lingering ever so slightly upon his form.

"And this is he, Miss Rose?"

"His name is Alexis, doctor."

Dr. William studied the teenager closely, taking note of the wounds visible underneath the large jacket; he could tell they weren't much harmful, but there were a lot of them, and it was truly alarming. He took the younger boy's wrist, ignoring the surprised yelp, and studied the frayed remnants of the boy's fingernails.

"What has happened here?" He said, tapping each finger with his own.

"I try to fight back, sir."

Surprised to not have heard Rose's voice instead, he looked up to see the blind eyes staring back at him, and he allowed a smile to creep to his face. "I beg your pardon, Alexis?"

"I try to fight back." Replied the boy, "Sometimes they taunt me towards the walls, and I scratch them. As much as I can. But then it turns out to be the walls instead, and I get hurt."

Dr. William smiled fully now, and glanced at Rose. "See? Self-inflicted. Nothing much to do here. The least you can do is to restrain him and lock him up, and we're done." Immediately the man let go of the hand he was holding, and stood to dust himself. "I must take my leave now." He took his coat from the nearby chair and prepared to leave.

"Doctor, this is a serious case we have here. I can't just simply lock him up, believing that it'll solve the problem somehow!" Rose was full-on indignant now.

"Then distract him with something else, I have to go." And the man left in brisk steps.

Rose hurried out herself, straining to walk as fast as he was alongside him. "Doctor, he's not just schizophrenic, I believe. He sees things!"

"Anything else as surprising?"

"He claims to see dead people!"

"And what if he does? Call an occult expert, not me."

"Doctor!"

The man stopped suddenly, and looked at her with a stern gaze. "Alright, I'll give you a chance. I'll take him home tomorrow and see what I can do. If it really is just delusion he's dealing with, I'll refuse the job. But if it's entirely something else, or if he interests me enough, I'll do what I can. Deal?"

Rose just stared. "You-"

"Good day to you, Miss Rose." And Dr. William was gone, out through the front door of the lobby and into his sleek car, and drove out of sight.

Rose clenched her fists and stormed back to where Alexis was, seething all the way. But as she saw the young boy standing in the middle of the room where she left him, looking so forlorn, her features softened and she calmed herself down.

A chance. Dr. William had given her a chance. It was all she could ever ask for, after all; if Dr. William really were a talented, well-renowned psychologist, he would know what to do with Alexis. All she had to do was to pray hard enough for it, because even if the said doctor was an uptight jerk, Alexis' future was in his hands.

The boy didn't move as she held his arm.

"Alexis, would you like to have something to eat? You haven't eaten anything for luncheon yet."

Slowly, she pried him away from where he was, and led him towards the kitchen. She didn't bother trying to talk with him- as of now, Alexis was in deep thought, and she was aware of that. She only wished she knew what he was thinking about.

Sometimes she wondered if he really was just schizophrenic.

-

Dr. William Gage drove his car into the waiting insides of the garage as soon as the automatic gates opened, and car-locked it as soon as he got out. He lived in a large house, and he lived alone. Three maids resolutely greeted him as he entered through the pair of large mahogany doors situated in the middle of the wide entrance walls, and as he stepped onto the dark thick carpet strewn underneath his feet, the women immediately took hold of his coat as he shrugged it off. Numerous greetings and such were directed at him, and he nodded curtly at each, and replied if it called for it. He wasn't really interested in any of them now, and business was business, but uniformity was indeed needed, as he most often taught them.

Tea was then prepared as he sat down on one of the luxurious couches, long legs placed on one of the foot stools. There were a couple of files sticking out of his bag, and he took them out, wearing his reading glasses as he stared at the letters. There was a picture pinned to one of the pages, and William took the liberty of prying it off- and he saw the man inside the image, and frowned.

Truly, Alexis was beautiful. There was no denying that. But there was something in that beauty that terrified him, almost to the extent of actually rejecting a case that could change his life, for the better, even! He traced the image with a finger, marveling at the chiseled curves of the boy's young face, and remembered the cold gaze he had received when their eyes had met, earlier. There was something in those eyes…something ominous, sinister. It took him quite a while to recover from the chill that enveloped his skin then, and he brought the tea cup to his lips and took a hearty sip. He already had a sort of bad gut-feeling, the first time the woman had mentioned the teen's name.

"His name is Alexis, doctor."

Alexis. Alexis.

He remembered the way the boy had looked at him. He remembered the threadbare miscellany of what used to be the boy's fingernails, and the forlorn way the silver eyes twinkled, as if to say, "Aren't you going to help me?"

Or, more accurately,

"Aren't you going to save me?"

This wasn't the first time he had encountered a case like Alexis', because those who were sensitive to the spirit world weren't exactly rare. He knew other people who were just like him- albeit more severely. He could still recall the day one of his friends had died, an intelligent woman like Diana…she was trying to deal with another a mentally disordered patient, whom most of the psychologists had already declared as either incurable or possessed, which in context would mean that Diana was dealing with something that might have been the supernatural. Atheistic as she was, she didn't think hiring a priest would do the trick, nor did she approve of bringing in a witch doctor, either. Instead, she decided it best to deal with the case with her bare hands, resorting to harsh solutions if needed.

The first few days of her endeavors were always narrated to him with pride by herself, telling him that the woman she was treating (a nervous wreck named Tricia) was slowly recovering from her past self-inflicted wounds, and was starting to respond to Diana's prompts. Soon, Diana said, Tricia will be able to leave the house and walk around, and they'll see, won't they? The power of science! Of course William had smiled at that, saying it was indeed to come true, but there had been something that nagged at him then. Something wasn't right.

Days later, he was informed by phone call that Tricia started hurting herself again. Diana had the audacity to actually be honest with him, but they were really good friends, anyway. Tricia had started claiming that the house was filled with people hanged, and that the floor smelled of blood and tears; William was quite impressed with his colleague, then, because she still had the impudence to carry on with her work.

"It's just a minor slip, Will." Said Diana, but her voice sounded tired and a bit edgy, even lacking the sprightly tune she had in her voice that made her sound so sweet.

"Don't overdo yourself." William advised; to be honest, he was a tad worried. "Let's go out for dinner. My treat. You sound terrible."

"I…I can do this. I can't leave Tricia by herself, she might…start trying to hang herself again. God, Will, it's…horrendous. She- I've got to go."

"Diana, wait-" but there already was a beeping sound on the other line.

Frightened for Diana's safety, William immediately left his house- and drove all the way to Diana's, all the while praying (for once) that she was safe.

But his prayers went unanswered.

There was no blood on the floor. There needn't be.

William's eyes scanned the interior of the room, once so organized, now a scattered mess. He saw the lot of pills spread across the dark floor, the papers and furniture toppled everywhere. He saw the pieces of glass sticking out from the cushions, and on the walls were long scratch marks a shade red. What scared him the most, though, were the two beings in the middle of the mess.

Diana was hanged. She had the telephone wire wound tightly around her neck, hanging from the small chandelier of the room. Below her sat Tricia, eyes and hair wild, chewing on her own arm, enough to draw blood.

His memories of that day were as clear as photographs.

William brought his hand to his face and forced the images away. Not now. Not ever.

He crumpled the papers in his hand and threw them into the fireplace, Alexis' picture dissolving into beautiful flames of white and blue.

-

After making sure that all inhabitants were in bed, Rose decided it was time to hit the hay and get some well-deserved sleep. But even if she was, plenty of things still crossed her mind like an endless trail of traffic, from the worst of her worries to the littlest ones, like _Marjorie hadn't turned the lights off yet. _She was incredibly tired, and she could use a bit of a massage- she was about to call out for Marjorie when the telephone by her bedside rang.

It was around one in the morning when this happened; Rose had glanced at the clock before answering the phone. The voice at the other end was tired, manly, familiar- albeit the lack of smugness in his tone, anyway. Rose cleared her throat and said, a little loudly, "Dr. William?"

"Good evening, miss Rose. I wanted to tell you that I have changed my mind, regarding Alexis' case. I decided to suggest to you to find another psychologist to work with. Good night."

Rose gripped the phone, anger surging through her. "Doctor, we made a deal. Alexis is prepared to leave first thing in the morning. You can't imagine how thrilled he was when I told him that you were going to give him a chance. You just can't do this-"

"You don't understand, miss Rose. I'm afraid Alexis is quite a different case. I can't afford any…danger towards my well-being, now."

"What I do understand," hissed Rose, "is that you are a coward. A sick, conceited, materialistic coward. How dare you change your mind abruptly like that after telling the kid you'd help him! Have you no moral character, Dr. William Gage?"

"I feel no obligation towards him, miss Rose."

"As a psychologist, as a doctor- as a person responsible for saving lives, I believe you do."

The other line was silent for a while. Rose gripped the phone harder, praying him to have a change of heart.

"Then I shall see you at eight in the morning tomorrow, then. Have a good night."

There was a soft click, and all Rose could hear was the endless sound of the dial tone.

Slowly, slowly, she put down the receiver, lay down on her bed, and sighed. She found herself smiling. The doctor had a heart after all, he just needed to be shaken up a little. Finally Alexis would get the proper treatment, and perhaps he'd be able to live a better life after he's done with that. Rose could already imagine the signs of life coming back to the boy's angelic features, the twinkle of merriment shining in his milky, opaque eyes. She closed her eyes and dreamt of that, happy for him after so long.

Outside, Marjorie finally remembered that she had to switch the lights off, and did so; and the whole asylum was bathed in darkness.

-

At around seven o'clock, the Bedlam's Cradle was already starting with its daily routines. There were a few grown men, all in long hospital dresses, playing another game of dominoes; the old women of the asylum were in turn playing hopscotch, while another group of adults were busy with their usual morning treatment sessions. Despite the gloomy title of being the town's asylum for the mentally retarded, the Bedlam's Cradle was brimming with life.

Rose was busy herself, preparing a breakfast exclusively for Alexis- he hadn't eaten yet, the poor thing. The meal she was making consisted mostly of oatmeal and strawberry slices on top, and a glass of milk to wash the lot down. It smelled fresh and new and absolutely delicious, and with a smile she brought it over to Alexis' room.

The said boy was already ready to go, sitting on the edge of his bed wearing a clean-looking sweater-jacket, and faded jeans. His hair was a mess as usual, and damp- she reckoned that he had only finished dressing up. He was staring at the wall, one hand on the bag he was going to bring, and Rose had to knock once or twice to get his attention. He wasn't really seeing her, because he was blind- it was enough to have him look her way, though.

"A pleasant morning, miss Rose." He said with a smile. His voice, soft and lovely, should belong to a singer.

"A pleasant morning to you too, Alexis." Rose put down the tray she was bringing, and pat the boy's head fondly, a soft caress added to it. "I see you're ready to leave. Are you excited about it?"

Alexis was quiet for a while, but he always was; Rose was patient enough to wait for his reply. "I guess so. But I'm a little worried."

The skin between Rose's brows creased, a bit. "Why is that?"

"Dr. William isn't really what I'd call friendly."

Rose sighed. "Yes, you're right about that. So you should behave while in his custody, alright?" She paused. "Is there…someone here, right now?"

Alexis closed his eyes, the length of his eye lashes splaying upon the smooth skin of his cheeks. He looked meditative. Disturbed.

"No, there isn't." He said after a while. "There's nobody here."

Rose released a sigh of relief she didn't know she was holding, and proceeded to present to him the meal she had prepared for him. "Eat up," she said lovingly. "It's your favorite."

The sweet scent of the strawberries and newly made oats was enough to give him a clue, and he smiled at her, in gratitude. He held the spoon between his tender fingers and started to eat, and he said, quite happily; "Thank you very much, miss Rose! It's delicious."

Having heard those words, Rose left.

In truth, he wasn't really crazy. As long as he stayed with the medicines miss Rose supplied him, and if he avoided the taunting of the voice bugging him every so often, he was as normal as he could get. The only problem was, ghosts and disturbed spirits weren't as easy to ignore. They littered before his blind vision as clear as day, often tormenting him, wounding him. He would rather suffer schizophrenia for real than to deal with the supernatural every single day.

It was because of the spirits that people believed him to have schizophrenia, though not severely. Many times had he been labeled to be 'mildly disturbed' and really, it was okay. He was just acting the part. The voice he always heard told him that. If you were crazy, the voice had said, you'd be like the other inmates of the insane asylum you are living with. And truthfully, the voice had a point.

Alexis washed down the meal he had consumed with the water supplied to do so, trailing his eyes away from the severed head staring at him from underneath the dresser. "I'm not insane," he said quietly, to himself.

_Hell you aren't._ Replied Mr. Voice. _Just a bit disturbed, really. Doesn't that William guy piss you off?_

"He's here to help me." Replied Alexis. "I'm sure he's smart enough to realize that I'm not crazy. Then he could help me with the real problems I do have." And he gestured at the people only he could see- the woman standing by the door, the man in black within the mirror, and the head under the dresser. Alexis wished the head would stop smiling at him.

_So you lied to her?_ Asked the voice.

"Miss Rose means well, and she's been kind to me ever since I got here, but all she ever believed was that I was deranged and mentally disturbed. I mean, I'm not like them." And Alexis frowned and looked out the window, where he could hear- and not see- the rest of his inmates screaming and laughing as if there were fire set on them.

There was a sound of a car screeching, wheels running to a stop upon gravel- and Alexis knew his time had come. Reaching for the strap of his bag and finding it were he had left it, he took one last look at the dead around him, and felt for the door.

Getting around the place wasn't as difficult as it should have been, because although ghosts were absolutely terrifying, their presence gave him clues as to where to put his foot next. For one, the headless body sprawled across the floor indicated that he was to turn a corner, because it was sort of angled at a nook. There was a lady crawling on the ceiling too, looking down at him with her head twisted around; her presence alerted him that he was approaching the stairs down towards the lobby. Careful not to walk underneath the said ghost (because if he did, she would fall on him and try to suffocate him with her bone-like hands), he reached the stairs and warily made his way. With his hands on the rails, he knew exactly where to turn, and when exactly to press away from the wall- because there was another there, a limbless, grinning man. They were all shouting at him in unison, and a sort of deafening, painful sound rang through his ears- enough for him to cry out before sprinting the last few steps towards the open lobby door.

He looked back, or seemed to do so without actually seeing- and the dead reached for him and moaned, begged him to stay.

_They're waiting. _Said the voice. _Leave them._

And he walked out into the front lawn.

-

William, clad in a thin sweater of golden brown with sleeves folded at the middle of his arms, watched with a slightly growing dread as Alexis carefully made his way towards Rose and he. They had been discussing the night before, Rose being surprisingly grateful for his reconsidering. He allowed himself to lean on the car for support and crossed his legs- only enough for one foot to look like it was over the other while he was standing up- and adjusted his glasses. _Alexis is wearing the same thing he was since yesterday_, he observed with a bit of crinkling of his eye brows. _Might as well start with clothes. _

Rose's thoughts were more general, as well as optimistic.

In fact, she was grinning at the boy with all the love in the world- or what appeared to be, anyway. She extended her arms as soon as Alexis was within reach, and gave him an earnest hug before anything else. Alexis was grateful for the show of concern, because he never experienced much of it, and smiled at the woman who had taken care of him for so long.

"Thank you for everything, miss Rose." Said Alexis.

"Do your best, then, alright?" She said.

Dr. William sighed as he opened the door for his ward to get in- and once the boy did, William shut it closed. "Don't forget, this is only a trial session. By tomorrow we'll see if he stays with me or not." He told the woman next to him.

Rose smiled wearily, tired of the doctor's hesitation. "He'll be good, I promise you."

_The doctor mistrusts you_, said Mr. Voice.

Dr. William Gage, in all his professionalism, replied to Rose: "I know." And with that, he got into the car and started the engine, ready to go.

There were no ghosts in the car. There was just his knew guardian for the next twenty-four hours, his bag, and Mr. Voice. "I'll miss her." Alexis whispered sadly.

The doctor had heard the soft statement, and replied with a tone of steel, "You'll see her again." He was referring to the possibility of bringing the boy back and returning him to where he had to be.

"But if I behave well, you wouldn't even let me out of the house." Countered Alexis.

_That's it._ Coached Mr. Voice.

William looked at his new ward through the car's rearview mirror, a stern set of golden eyes. He didn't like the way the statement was directed at him. It unnerved and pissed him off, surprisingly. "Only if you behave will you be able to even take a step into my house, Alexis." A pause. He saw how the boy looked at him now, and decided to take a step towards _friendly_. After all, he could use to be at least a little friendly. "But first let's get you some new clothes. I'm sure you'd like that, won't you?"

Alexis was silent for a while. "I've never been to a mall."

"Well, now's a good day for your first time." Replied William, turning the corner and driving towards the local shop. "Today's a day for your firsts."

Alexis wasn't sure what the doctor meant, but it wasn't threatening. But it wasn't a tad assuring, either. He allowed himself to relax into the leather car seat and ignored Mr. Voice- and slowly he drifted to sleep.

Dr. William may not admit it, but the whole while his hands had been shaking- and he had never ceased to throw the boy a few cautionary glances at the back, too.

**[End of Chapter 1]**


End file.
